


Escorting a Snoring Boy

by RockinT765



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, I may edit this later, M/M, Sleepwalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-09 22:54:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7820407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockinT765/pseuds/RockinT765
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Byakuya is stuck dealing with a sleepwalking Makoto.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Escorting a Snoring Boy

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request, for someone, on Tumblr, but I'm an idiot who read the prompt wrong, so I'll write a sequel to this story, at some point, that will rectify it.

_“Another late night,”_ Byakuya thought, sitting at his desk, _“I suppose I put it upon myself.”_

His fingers moved across his keyboard, tapping out emails and notes and passwords, making the only sound in the building. He was used to it, however: the silence that was just barely broken by his tired breaths. He’d been working late almost every night, and, mostly, by his own accord. It wouldn’t be recognized, or at least, not rewarded, which he knew. He was just the kind of person who finished what they started, and found weakness in those who didn’t.

Though his tasks and assignments were, often, just a matter of budgeting or maneuvering resources, he knew that there was nobody else to do the job. When all his coworkers came back, in the morning, sure, there’d be plenty of people working on each case. But, the world needed saving, and by going home early, he was willingly deciding to ignore his duty.

He may not care much about the people around him, or the people of the world, but he couldn’t just give up on them either, or lose hope.

So, he found himself working late, again and again and again. Not that it was, particularly, a problem. He worked late and got up early, as he always had, making the hours a non-issue. And, the work itself was mind-numbingly easy. Anyone with a brain could work out the simple solutions to each problem, presented in the cases.

Yes, the job was not very hard, nor the hours, nor the silence.

His only real complaint was the lack of time, be it for hobbies, or just useless fraternizing.

Byakuya loved reading, which was something, about himself, that he could, readily, admit. He enjoyed playing his violin, and the various other instruments that he owned. He liked going to shows, and exhibits, and galleries. He missed going to parties thrown by elites that he didn’t care for, and conversing with dignitaries about business, and economy, and politics.

When there was no overwhelming despair, and he was just the rich heir to the Togami conglomerate, he had been cultured, always traveling, and finding himself surrounded by art, and people.

He missed that life, sometimes. It’d been boring, and he hadn’t been, truly, happy for every year since he’d won against his siblings, but it had been full. He had hated that life, though he’d shoved those feelings down deep, where they couldn’t be seen through the scars, on his heart. And, each day, he’d dreaded getting up, finding himself, quickly, tired of whatever hobby he took up, to pass the time.

But, it had been _his_ life. He wasn’t sure whose life he was living, anymore.

Everything was so different, and everything had changed. He’d lost his status, his home, his family, his “friends,” and any material or metaphorical thing he had. He couldn’t even count on himself, as weathering through it all had changed him.

With everything so new, and so confusing, and terrifying, he had chosen to throw himself into his work. That was what Byakuya did best, afterall.

But, if he was honest with himself, the work may have even, originally, been an outlet, a way to work off his stress, and ignore the fact that his life had fallen apart, just as the world had. However, Byakuya wasn’t the type of person to share his feelings, not even with himself. His doubts were insignificant, and his feelings mere inhibitors to accomplishing what was really important. That was how it had always been, and if he allowed his emotions to course through him, they would overtake him, in an instant, and he wasn’t ready to let himself get washed away.

So, he worked as much as he could, leading to constant overtime, and leaving him alone.

Or, at least, he was _usually_ alone.

Byakuya had heard a sound, one that seemed to come from the hallway. Ceasing his typing, and focusing on listening, he became aware of the fact that they were footsteps. And whoever was walking was, slowly, getting closer to him. The steps were slow and uneven, unlike his own purposeful strides.

It was too late for anyone to still be in the office, as even those who worked more than they had to didn’t stay as long as he did, and the steps were not the ones he was used to hearing, in the daylight hours. Perhaps, the person in the hallway was not a co-worker, at all.

He had a bad feeling.

Bracing himself, Byakuya prepared to be ambushed. Despite the fact that his blood had gone cold, and he was certain that his self-defense skills had gotten rusty, he moved into a fight stance, staring into the dark hallway. He would not die at the hands of some criminal, or spy trying to gain information about Future Foundation.

For a few agonizing moments, he just stared, keenly aware of the fact that he could be killed, or kidnapped, or tortured. His mouth went dry, and he gulped.

But then, a figure approached the doorway, getting closer and closer until they were almost in the room. It would only take a single step, before Byakuya would share a space, with his potential assailant.

He attempted, almost desperately (though he would never let himself fall to total desperation), to make out any of the person’s defining features. His eyes adjusted to the darkness, slowly, since his eyes were no longer glued to the lit screen, and he realized that whoever they were was really very short.

Before Byakuya could gain more insight, the other person walked closer, finally entering the room, and allowing the slight light, from the window, to hit them. And, though it was still hard to see, it took only a moment for him to recognize who it was.

Makoto Naegi had entered his office, the average boy that pestered him, each and every day. Suddenly, Byakuya was both relieved and angry.

However, he refused to give away the fact that he had been scared. He dropped his arms to his sides, releasing the tension, in his body, and took a deep breath. “Why are you still here?” he asked, voice reasonably level.

But, Makoto did not respond, leaving Byakuya even more upset. He just stood there, not making a sound.

“I’m talking you to,” he spat, as though it were an insult.

Again, Makoto said nothing, seemingly completely unaware of the fact that he’d even spoken. Determined to figure out why the insolent boy had decided to suddenly ignore him, though Byakuya was his better, he walked closer to him.

Finally, he could make out his features. His hair was the same as always, he was wearing his suit, and he was slouching, a bit. That was all unimportant, however, as the thing that struck Byakuya most was the fact that Makoto’s eyes were closed.

 _“The idiot is asleep,”_ he realized.

Makoto must’ve fallen asleep, at his desk. And, at some point, he must’ve begun to sleepwalk.

“I wouldn't have pegged you as the sleepwalking type. Interesting,” he said, aloud, although Makoto wouldn’t be able to comprehend it.

He didn’t say a thing, as Byakuya had expected. So, Byakuya chose to study Makoto, interested in the phenomenon of sleepwalking, and also just amused by the circumstance.

Makoto was swaying, slightly, rocking in place, and seemed unstable, but appeared to be able to remain standing. His breaths were soft, and Byakuya could almost hear tiny snores. His mouth was just the slightest bit opened, and it seemed that that had led to some minor drooling. His eyes were closed, and his face peaceful.

“He’s actually kind of adorable,” Byakuya said, before he had thought it through.

Byakuya’s eyes widened, and he let out a small gasp. _“Why did I say that? That was a careless error, on my part,”_ he mentally cursed, himself.

Luckily, the person in front of him hadn’t seemed to have heard it, though he wondered where the thought had come from, at all. But, he couldn’t focus on the startling realization that he thought Makoto Naegi, of all people, was cute. He had other things to deal with.

What was he supposed to do about the fact that there was a sleepwalker in his office?

He’d heard that it wasn’t good to wake them, and while he wasn’t entirely certain why that was, he didn’t intend to just haphazardly do anything. So, he decided that he wouldn’t wake him. And, actually, since he knew so little about sleepwalking (he made a mental check mark to read up on it) he wouldn’t do anything, at all. Really, Makoto’s sleeping habits didn’t concern him. He could just go back to work, or go home, and ignore him, altogether.

Byakuya didn’t care. Not one bit. It would be, _incredibly_ , easy to just leave Makoto, at the office. Alone. And asleep. He wasn’t worried, because he didn’t worry about others. He had his own things to deal with, and if Makoto was so incompetent that he couldn’t even stay awake on the job, he deserved whatever came to him.

At least, that was what Byakuya thought he thought.

In actuality, he cared a bit too much. More than he would’ve preferred. So, when he sat back down, at his desk, and attempted to go back to work, it was nearly impossible to focus.

He stared at his screen, ignoring the boy just barely still in his peripheral, and tried to get things done, things that mattered, unlike Makoto’s current situation. For a solid minute and a half, he tapped away at his keyboard, only half-registering what he was even typing. But, it just didn’t stick.

“This isn’t working,” Byakuya said, leaning back, in his chair, “I can’t get anything done, like this.”

He looked over at Makoto, the ~~cute~~ sleeping boy. _“You know what? Screw work.”_

Getting up, Byakuya made his way over to Makoto, and considered his options.

Makoto always walked to work, citing the fact that he “enjoyed the peace” that walking provided him, and while Byakuya found it incredibly stupid, he did it everyday. So, he had no car, and he certainly couldn’t walk home, while he was asleep. However, he could walk home, if he wasn’t asleep.

Byakuya decided that the easiest thing to do would just be to wake him. He wasn’t responsible for any adverse effects that stemmed from it. He was just doing what he had to do, and definitely not taking the easy way out. So, he moved his arms closer to Makoto, ready to shake him, just enough to wake him.

However, once he found himself almost too close to Makoto, and his hands wrapped around the other boy’s thin arms, he realized that he couldn’t do it. Makoto looked too peaceful.

Why did he even care? Byakuya let out an annoyed sigh, and let go of Makoto’s arms, mad at himself for making decisions based on feeling, instead of logic. He _cared_ , and that made him almost _nice_ , even if he didn’t want to be.

Deciding that not waking Makoto, and figuring out another solution, would be the last nice thing he would ever do, for another person, he opted to try something else.

Reaching out his arm, again, he tried to pull Makoto, attempting to get him to walk. Maybe, he could pull Makoto’s arm, and he’d follow, like a dog being led by a leash. But, Makoto wouldn’t budge, and he was surprisingly good at staying in place. Byakuya feared that if he really put effort into pulling him, Makoto would just end up falling, on the floor. Obviously, he didn’t really care if that happened to Makoto, but it would reflect poorly on Byakuya, himself.

Annoyed that his previous ideas hadn’t worked, Byakuya was, quickly, losing interest, and his calm. With near-wild abandon, Byakuya acted on his next, immediate impulse.

It was surprisingly easy to pick Makoto up.

Before he knew it, he was holding his sleeping co-worker and “peer” bridal style. It worked, as Makoto was insanely small, and light, but Byakuya hadn’t expected to ever hold Makoto in such a way. For a second, he considered backing out. But, if he gave up just because it was mildly uncomfortable, that would make him a quitter, and a coward. So, putting on a determined face, Byakuya carried Makoto through the hallway.

“I think the best course of action is just to bring him out to my car,” he said, not caring about the fact that he was, pretty much, just talking to himself.

It was a bit awkward carrying him there, out to the parking garage, and it surely would’ve looked suspicious if someone had seen him, but it wasn’t a particularly hard task. It really only took a few minutes before he had the Ultimate Lucky Student in his car.

 _That_ was a weird sentence.

Byakuya shook away the thought, and sat down in the driver’s seat. However, before he could actually go anywhere, he realized something. He had no idea where Makoto lived.

Makoto had invited him to hang out, before, and probably given him his address at some point, but Byakuya couldn’t, for the life of him, remember where he would’ve stored that information, and if he even had it, at all. He couldn’t, exactly, just guess where he lived, and Byakuya wasn’t going to back out after all the work he’d already put into his current plan. He’d just have to come up with something.

Before long, he had an idea.

 _“He could always sleep on my couch,”_ he thought, before being repulsed by the fact that he’d even thought it, _“No, that’s a terrible idea. Not only would it be incredibly hard to explain, but it’s also idiotic and stupid. Out of the question.”_

Byakuya frowned, and glanced at Makoto.

He supposed that it was his only option. He didn’t want to reach out to anyone, or ask for help, so there wasn’t much else that he could do. Sighing, he began to drive to his living space.

Byakuya didn’t turn on the radio, partially in case it woke up Makoto, but also because he wasn’t a fan of the music they played. Regardless of what channel it was, the music was modern, and often, repetitive and dull. He enjoyed classical, and many other genres, but pop was not one of them, and rock was treading the line of being positively awful. And, country was just… He wouldn’t even consider listening to it.

So, he was, again, in silence. But, this time, he was comforted by the boy sitting next to him. He would never tell a soul, but he was almost always lonely. Even just the company of his sleeping companion made him feel a little bit better. Byakuya would never thank Makoto, in person, but silently, in his head, he thanked Makoto for falling asleep, at the office.

As it was so late, the roads were nearly empty, and he got home, quickly, the time having somehow not dragged by.

He pulled the car into his driveway, grabbed his keys, and, swiftly, made his way out of the car and over to Makoto. Byakuya undid Makoto’s seatbelt (which had been a pain to get on, in the first place), and lifted him up. Navigating walking up the steps, to his front door, was a bit odd, and trying to unlock the door was a challenge, but somehow, he managed to open it.

Since he wasn’t used to carrying people, by the time he walked in, his arms were beginning to lock up, and he hurriedly, put Makoto on the couch, in his living room.

 _“Do I have to get him a blanket?”_ he wondered, _“Do I even have spares?”_

He considered trying to find one, but his energy had finally left him. “That’s the best I’m doing. Makoto should be thankful that I even did anything for him, at all.”

Byakuya looked at him, for a moment, and decided that that was perfectly fine. Letting out a sigh of relief, he walked upstairs, took off his glasses, and practically melted into his bed.

That, of course, didn’t mean that he could fall asleep, right away. Byakuya never just fell asleep, even if he hadn’t slept for days. It always took time, breathing and counting and meditating. So, he stared out the window, and thought about the night’s little excursion.

“It’s going to be awful explaining this, tomorrow,” he groaned, “I’ll probably never live it down.”

Why had he even done it? What could’ve possibly possessed him to do something so kind for someone so unworthy? He had nothing to gain from helping Makoto. In fact, he’d just created problems, for himself. Maybe he was growing soft. Or worse, maybe he had a soft spot, for Makoto.

 _“Ugh, I hope not,”_ he thought, _“Falling in love with that idiot would be a huge inconvenience.”_

But, as he peered out the window, and saw the moon shining bright in the dark sky, he feared that it had already begun.

What he didn’t see, however, was the smiling boy, on his couch.

**Author's Note:**

> When did Makoto wake up? The world may never know.
> 
> Also, sorry Byakuya's a bit OOC. 
> 
> Links: (feel free to contact me) (I take both art and fic requests, depending)  
> Tumblr- http://rockint765.tumblr.com  
> DeviantART- http://rockint765.deviantart.com


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